


Sacrilege

by Dash (Cydney)



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cydney/pseuds/Dash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope’s never been very religious, but he can’t help but wonder how the Goddess Etro would react with her sacred armor pulled open like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrilege

* * *

 

The first time he dreamt of her, she was a shadow. Tall, lithe and with a distant voice. But the teased rose hair and structure could belong to nobody but Lighting. She had stayed just long enough to tell him he was making the right choices in life, and to keep going. When he woke, the shadow stayed in his mind, refusing to fade away with most other dreams.

The second time he saw her more clearly, but she wasn’t as familiar. The fetching Guardian Corp uniform was gone, along with any lingering smile she had. Instead she was encased in armor, form fitting and elegant, with a divine grace to it. She looked determined, focused. Lightning had a heavy weight on her shoulders, and she was undoubtedly giving her all to deal with it. When she spoke, it was the same message she had given him before - he was making the right choices, and to keep going.

In the years that followed, he grew. He grew taller, older, more clean and determined. He styled his hair, but kept the gloves and wrist-wrap from his youth, as he steadily climbed the ranking ladder of the Academy, surpassing his father in no time. Her shadow visited him sparingly, but she was encouraging when she did.

After meeting Serah and her traveling companion Noel, he confessed he had seen Lightning. Rarely, but often enough. She was out there somewhere, alive and active. When Serah told him just how much she had been tasked with, he began to understand just how much was at stake, and what they would all need to accomplish. 

When he saw her again, he pulled her hand and told her of what was happening. Her sister, the passing years, paradoxes, and what plans were beginning to sweep into motion. When he woke, he didn’t remember if she replied, but he did recall her smile.

He met her again, over time. Conversations about everything and nothing, and little updates. When she told him she was there by the divine will of a long-forgotten Goddess, Hope was reminded of why he didn’t care for Gods or Fal’Cie. They were never fair.

It was a long time before he saw her again, and when he did, he couldn’t resist pulling her close and holding her. He told himself it was just a dream. An overwhelming desire to feel someone he missed dearly, who he wasn’t sure of how he felt for her. Just a dream, even if the feel of her cold, scalloped breast plate and her armor was vividly real.

Just a dream, he thought, to settle his hammering heart as she pulled her arms up and pulled him tighter. If she wasn’t real, there was no reason why he couldn’t tilt her head up and catch her lips with his. And if she was real, she must have been feeling some of the same loneliness, because the way she tilted her head and pressed tighter was addictive.

If time moved slowly in Valhalla she would have been alone for decades, but he pushed the thoughts aside. There was eagerness, but no desperation. Just a boldness that she lived, that made him look up to her so long ago, even if she was now smaller and more petite than he was. Light was still the fighter, the warrior, and when her hand twisted in his hair and pulled him down to the nape of her neck, Hope didn’t hesitate to kiss what little of her skin was exposed, thrilling in the gasp she made.

He’s sure he’s dreaming when his mind becomes a pleasant fog, knowing only her hands in his hair and her lips at his neck and ear. It’s almost intoxicating, and before long he’s spent far too long letting his hands wander her armor. It’s leather and steel and divine ornaments, but underneath it all he can feel her. A mixture of soft tissue across hard muscles, and she’s infinitely more interesting than whatever wardrobe a Goddess had given her. When he grabs her thighs it’s because it’s the only part of her exposed, and the way she hisses and rolls against him is stunning.

"More," she hums through gritted teeth, and Hope’s thumbs are already tracing the slopes of her backside. He wants to explore more of her, but she’s too wrapped up in hard armor, so he ducks his head down to her neck. There’s a cord just under the skin below her ear, and he sucks it as she hums and presses against him. She must have the same ideas as he did, and his trousers are nowhere near as resilient as her own clothes.

'It's just a dream,' he reminds himself, when her hand wraps around him and pumps, making him groan into her neck. She explores with a gentle grip, testing and stroking and he's aware she's watching his face as she does. He's probably blushing, but he's too busy focusing on her thighs, and slipping his hand inside her underwear to palm her rear end. Soon enough though, she pulls his hand away and puts it back on her firm leg, and he's worried he's done something wrong, until she stands on her toes and presses tight against him. Hope has to bite his lip when he feels her, slick, warm skin against his sensitive tip, knowing she's pulled the barrier of her underwear aside.

He squeezes her leg and leans down, catching her lips again and groaning and she lowers herself onto him, slowly spreading her open and sinking inside. She’s hot and wet, and Hope bites his lip to calm himself down as she leans against him and swears softly.

'Just a dream,' he thinks breathlessly and she rocks her hips. Nothing that felt this amazing could be real, and he squeezes the muscle of her leg as he rolls up against her. The cold steel of her breastplate is digging into his chest, but he doesn't dare push her away. Hope's never been very religious, but he can’t help but wonder how the Goddess Etro would react with her sacred armor slid open like this. Even the feather skirt, cool and soft compared to her warm leg, is fluttering in the breeze more as they begin moving quicker.

In the end she’s still too good, and what little control he has slips before he clings to her. He buries his thickness inside her, coming with a shuddering breath and moaning her name as she pulls him tight and rocks hard against him. He’s relieved to feel her clench and gasp and finish immediately afterwards. And for a long moment they stay flush against each other, still joined and panting. Hope’s struck dumb, wanting to say everything and nothing, and all he can manage is to nuzzle the damp skin of her neck.

'It's just a dream,' he thinks again, as Light turns and pulls him back for another kiss, and he's just relieved he isn't waking up yet.


End file.
